Cooking for Mal
by MakoRain
Summary: Whoever thought that the well taught Companion was versed in everything but cooking? MalxInara oneshot set during the series.


A/N: I've been getting back into Firefly again and with watching the series over and over comes little random ideas popping into my head. Here is what happens when I read between the lines of episodes because I swear I could so see this happening in the series. R&R please!

Disclaimer (Firefly): I do not own Firefly, that goes to the lovely Joss!

"**Cooking For Mal"**

By MakoRain

It was a day like any other aboard Serenity as Mal made his way from the bridge and past the crew's cabins until he was met in the kitchen stumbling upon a sight to see. The dark beauty who didn't tend to wander much stood behind the counter donned in a frilly white apron and heaping something God awful smelling onto a plate.

"Inara, what exactly are you doing?"

She looked up, startled and dropped the spoon she was using with a resounding plop as it seemed to adhere to the countertop. Sheepishly, Inara looked from Mal to the mess she made and then back to him, regaining the ability to speak.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Mal took a few steps further into the kitchen and stopped, unable to move past the smell that invaded every corner now.

"I'd say cooking but I've never seen anything good come of something that bad smelling. Say, how many times have you actually cooked anything?"

Inara couldn't help looking down at her hands again before forcing herself to look him in the eye. "Just this once, really."

At the blank look of shock on his face, she found herself giving an excuse to her odd behavior. Not that she needed to explain anything to him but still, she couldn't help it.

"It's not exactly required as part of my repertoire of expertise, Mal."

"You've never had a customer request you to cook him a little something before the whoring?"

"Most of the time, my clients prefer to get to the good stuff as it were."

There was a look of triumph on her face as Mal scooted past making a retort, not wanting to invite anymore details of her work life. She had the common courtesy not to poke in his business and he'd return the favor, especially if it saved him the unpleasant mental image of her with another man.

Shaking off a shudder disguised as continuous revolt to her cooking, he peered into the pot that was still simmering on the stove. It looked even more grim than what was congealing on the plate she now pushed before him.

"What in the sphincter of hell you playing at?"

"I want you to try it first. Tell me if it tastes good." If he hadn't caught the look of sincerity in her eyes, Mal would have sworn she must be joking.

"I'm telling you I lived through the war on canned beans and I'd gladly eat those again then whatever it is that's staring at me from that plate. I think it's still moving."

He could feel her glare burn into the back of his skull and so begrudgingly picked up his fork and made as if to dig in before another thought came to mind.

"Is it poisoned?"

"What? No it's not poisoned! Mal, can you be a human being for once and just eat what's put in front of you?" She pushed him into his seat at the head of the table, putting the plat of Go-se in front of him with a loud thunk.

God, he loved making her frustrated. She looked so sexy riled up in that frilly little apron that it made him want to do things to her that he was pretty sure she'd scold him for before joining in herself. Keeping that smirk on his face, he poked at the plate with a fork, watching in a curiosity that turned into abject horror as the utensil was sucked into the goop never to be seen again.

"It is poisoned, isn't it? You planning on poisoning me to take my ship!"

"What in the verse would I want with your stupid ship?"

Mal looked down abjectedly at the wooden table as if Inara had just broken his favorite toy. In a way, she almost had since Serenity was his home, his way of life, his everything.

"Serenity's not stupid, you're stupid." He muttered childishly and she held back a snort as she stood behind him.

"I'm sorry I called Serenity stupid. Now will you please stop being a stubborn child and just try a bite?"

"I ain't eating nothing that I don't know what it's supposed to be."

"Does it look that wrong?" Inara wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer but getting one nonetheless.

"That depends on what it's supposed to be." Mal continued eyeing the plate every which way until she gave a frustrated sigh.

"It's supposed to be bao."

His ears perked up as did his face hearing that she was trying to make him his favorite meal. It was just so sweet and yet not because there was no way the go-se on his plate was bao.

"Then it's definitely not bao."

He stood and dumped his plate in the trash can as Inara watched mutely, trying her best not to hint at how much it crushed her to fail so completely at something so simple and in front of Mal no less.

"Gorramit, what did I do wrong?"

Instead of laying into her anymore, he steered her to stand behind the counter.

"How exactly did you make that?"

She ignored his question as she started cleaning up, lifting a whisk that was discarded carelessly after she used it. Mal eyed the utensil questioningly before understanding dawned on him. "Ah, that explains it."

"Explains what?" Inara asked, trying to figure out what he meant.

"You don't need this. You want the insides of the bun to be lumpy, not soupy." He made his point by whipping the whisk in the direction of the pot now cooling on the stove.

"Oh." That made sense. "But I followed the recipe...from what I could recall, at least."

"You didn't write it down?" He gave her an incredulous which had her crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

"I tried to but Martha Stewart was going really fast on the teleprompt!"

Mal couldn't contain his laughter at how dignified she was acting, trying to learn to cook from Martha Stewart for Christ's sake. But taking in her wounded pride from her stiff stance and pouted lip she was now biting on, he tore his gaze away to simply clean away the dirty dishes.

"Maybe you should stick to baking," He said halfheartedly and earned a small smile in return.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"And maybe by next time, that smell will go away."

For good measure, Mal walked around the kitchen using a bottle of Febreeze to help mask the god awful smell still trying to cling to him as he left the room. He fought the smile and finally gave up as it took over his face upon hearing her yell over his shoulder.

"I'll show you, Malcolm Reynolds!"

His reply was more for himself than for her to hear, making his smile wider."I hope you do, darlin'. I hope you do."

*As it was meant to be*

The End


End file.
